A new series begins…and with this family, there's no telling.

I’m die-(t)-ing

This is Duchess. Her family asked me to intervene when their normally haughty but active cat began lolling around on the patio. She had been deemed healthy but overweight by her vet. This was day two of her diet.

Knowing she could be skittish with strangers, I approached cautiously. She opened one eye and peered at me quickly.

“Go away, we don’t need you here.”

Well, some cats are friendlier than others. Usually, when they realize I can understand them, they have a lot to say. I explained that I could help her talk to her family.

“Tell them I’m dying,” she said.

I was already irked, so I told her she wasn’t dying, just hungry.

“Look at me! I can barely move. Even if they decided to feed me, I wouldn’t be able to get to the bowl. I’m so weak, and dizzy, and I feel tingly all over. This is the end.” She meowed pathetically.

“Oh, get up. You’re fine,” I said.

She picked her head up a fraction of an inch. “Is that the can opener I hear?”

I shook my head, the family wasn’t helping by feeding her in the middle of my session.

Duchess hopped up – as if a miracle had occurred. “See, I told you I didn’t need you.”